Sitting In A Circle

Working-mom-struggle bubbling up. Work life balance. Feels like I’m sitting in a circle; there’s no corners to hide out in. Problem is, this circular spot happens about every 7 days. It’s Thursdays I’m talking about.

This Thursday I was away from home for 14 hours. I left for a talk before the boys awoke, and arrived home well after bed time. During those 14 hours, I was able to hear an incredible talk by Perri Klass on reading & advocacy via the Reach out and Read program, I completed a long day of clinic and saw over 25 patients, I completed an interview with a potential medical assistant, and I had two 30 minute commutes. I am really glad I had those opportunities. For one patient and his mother, I wouldn’t have missed the day. Hands down, good decision to go to work. But these long Thursdays eat away at me. Intellectually I understand trade-offs in life exist (duh). I understand with opportunity comes losses (duh). Despite this acknowledgment, I seem to go through an emotional evaluation every week. Something about Thursdays seems an utter failure on a personal level. A day starting and ending with zero time with my children seems simply preposterous. Outside the scope of travel, having a day go by on planet earth without a glimpse of my children, while coexisting in the same home, seems a minus. My motherhood isn’t supposed to look this way. Yes, I know mothers leave and travel; I know children divide time between parents. I know plenty of parents work harder and longer hours than I do. I know many other mothers and fathers carry more than one job. I remember my co-residents with children (while in training) left their homes for upwards of 30 hours at a time, every week. Yet every Thursday I feel this 14 hours-ish toll. Even though I know my kids endure these long days well, I don’t. The balance between our time at work and our time enjoying our personal lives remains tricky.

On Thursday, when I got home, I rushed into F’s bedroom. He was asleep, his right arm hanging off the bed forming a relaxed fist, as if he was holding onto a rope. He had a green IKEA circular carpet sitting next to his bed that he had dragged in from the bathroom. I sat down on the green spot. It was quiet; the light was warm. I listened to him breath. I kissed his cheeks. I kissed his hand. I kissed his cheeks. Hand. Repeat. It was one of those precious parenting moments, proximity and intimacy in the most innocent way. And then, something about it seemed symbolic.

There I was again, on a Thursday, trying to figure out how work became a tug away from “life.” Recently numerous people have mentioned (in real life & on Twitter) that the concept of work-life-balance shouldn’t exist. That if you love your job, the flow (and ebbs) between the two should not represent tension. I entirely disagree. I adore my work and am impassioned to do what I do. But work takes me away from my children. There is no question I want more of both: work and personal life, time with my boys…

This is circular.

Sometimes when families ask me about the benefits of preschool, I list “learning to sit in a circle, ” as a one tiny example of how kids acquire school readiness and how they learn to function in a school environment, learning to relate to peers, fostering creativity and appreciating structure, etc.

I think I may be learning to do the same, all over again. I’m learning to sit in this circle.

And with this, I push the drudgery aside…with my coffee in hand, there will be more writing this week on booster seats: the why, the new “best” list, and one great idea from a NY pediatrician.

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11 Comments to “Sitting In A Circle”

When I was a working mama, I worked 60+ hr weeks. (Typical in my field.) I always knew who was expecting because I’d get these “how to” questions about worklife balance from colleagues. The questions, to me, implied a fixed solution, like you are balancing different things on a scale. My experience was more the balance you employ on a tightrope. Some days you sail through. Other days you’re the guy riding the bike across. And still other days you’re the guy riding the bike across the rope with a bunch of additional crap balanced atop your head. It’s impossible not to miss your kids, but quantifying your time with them is the tightrope-walking equivalent of looking down.

I like my job, but I used to love my career. Currently I’m in the spot where I feel like my career is motherhood, and what used to be my career is now my job. I like it, but I’d love to like it one or two days a week. It’s very hard for me to make that balance work, but I’m doing my best. If I don’t, we don’t have health care. And that’s the most galling thing. We could afford for me to work part time, but we can’t afford to lose my health care benefits because my husband’s are non-existent for families. sigh.

As a working mom I relate to your posts about being pulled in two directions and I appreciate your thoughts and ideas. I am fortunate to work in a field (education) with lots of breaks built into the job, but I have experienced those heartbreaking days where you don’t get to see your baby awake. It is tricky to complain about not being able to see my child but then backtrack to explain that I love my job as well. On long work days, I mentally plan to “re-balance” the scales by spending extra time or doing a special activity with C on a weekend day or evening. I think about the good example I’m setting for him and the fact that being away from him makes me miss him and look forward to coming home – a nice feeling! I think that as families we need to keep working towards situations (everyone’s will be different) that work for everyone, including being able to live comfortably on one income, take time for new babies, and create a flexible schedule.

I had over a week of Thursdays last week due to a work crisis, and by Friday I couldn’t stand it any longer – I had to take the afternoon off to spend a little time with my kids. I do like my job, but my family is my fuel – when I don’t spend enough time with them, I feel like I’m running on empty.

Oh, dear Dr. Swanson, this post makes me want to give you a hug. Your patients (my son and daughter) and their parents (me!) appreciate so much the time you spend away from your family, but I can imagine the toll that it must take on you.

As a SAHM, I go through the opposite tugs, wondering if I am teaching my kids the “right” thing about balance. The eternal struggle of working vs. not is so tough on us parents. I think as long as YOU know (which I think you do) that you are doing the right thing for your kids and yourself, you are on the right track.

As a working mother, currently in an uncomfortable spot work-wise, this really resonates with me.
Up until recently, I did feel balanced: I enjoy my career, and though it would be nice to spend a little more time with my children, I’ve been ok with our routine. We even have a bonus: my husband is a teacher and spends the whole summer with the boys (twins, currently 21mos old).

So what has changed? My job is in jeopardy and I’m very worried that if I can even find a job in this economic climate, that my commute will be 2hr one way. This would mean I’d get home around 7pm each night—right when my boys are going to bed. Even the possibility of this is upsetting me, and I’ve been scrambling like a squirrel in a cage to come up with a way to prevent that.

There’s a possibility I won’t lose my job. There’s a possibility that I’ll find a job that is closer to home. But I can’t shake the belief that I’m going to get stuck with the long commute and less time with my children….which will make me hate my job and the balance will be all wrong. Not even close to enough time with my children, and more time than ever spent traveling to/from and working at a job that if it were only closer, I might truly enjoy.

As the mother of one of the kids you saw on Thursday, we appreciate you more than we can say.
As a working mom myself, I struggle with being there for the kids and being at work. I hate not being able to make every doctors appt, though Dad takes them to appts and does great I just want to be at them all.
So I know that you struggle with work time and family time, but just know that you are appreciated greatly. You have helped us more than you know with “H” and “T” is now doing so much better.
If you ever figure out the happy balance and how not to feel guilt, please let me know!!

Thanks, Jennifer. As you know, I love my job and the privilege and role in helping care for children. And like I said, I’m glad I was able to see patients Thursday! But yes, the balance and trade-offs are tough. We live in a time of great camaraderie online, but also a time where the blogosphere/parenting-news facilitates a constant self-evaluation about our choices. Mothers and fathers are righteous at times about their choices (for good reason!) but it’s simply easier in this generation to see the other models of motherhood. This translates to so many of us constantly evaluating what we’re doing. I don’t enjoy the struggle of evaluation per se, but it’s where I find myself. Opportunities overflow for so many of us with children, and part of my job as a mama/blogger/writer/doctor is to share how all this feels. Thanks for your comment!

As the mom of two other kids you saw on that crazy Thursday ( thank you thank you thank you), I submit my heartfelt thanks that you continue to give so much of your amazing self to your patients and families. That being said, I tell graduating residents the same thing every year – medicine (and many other fields) will take every last bit of you that you are willing to give. No one at work will ever really tell you that you should protect your personal life more and work a bit less, especially when you are as amazingly competent as you are! It’s definitely up to each of us to do what we can to protect as much of our personal/family time as we can. That being said, none of us have it figured out. I know I don’t. But I do know our kids seem to be more resilient about it than we are. Maybe that’s a little something.

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Seattle Children’s provides healthcare for the special needs of children regardless of race, color, creed, national origin, religion, sex (gender), sexual orientation or disability. Financial assistance for medically necessary services is based on family income and hospital resources and is provided to children under age 21 whose primary residence is in Washington, Alaska, Montana or Idaho.